Einar (First Draft)- Chapter 4

The conceptual world was slowly dying as the intruder awoke. It felt cramped up, restrained. It opened one metaphorical eye as it allowed itself to fully waken. Black. There seemed to be nothing around it as it scanned the place which, scientifically speaking, shouldn't exist. It could not feel its limbs, skin or bones, he it felt small, stuck somewhere that normally shouldn't contain a being so large inside it. It felt like it was tied in a straitjacket trapped in a coffin made for a child, while all the while wearing a t-shirt that was a couple of sizes too small. And now the coffin was aching. It felt like whatever had contained the entity was hurting from many different places at once, and he didn't like it.

In addition to this pain, the whole place felt cold, as if all of the warmth was slowly draining out of it. As the being screamed in protest, theoretical fire erupted from his being and encompassed him. Once it had died down, he felt a little thump. A slow, steady beat was coming from somewhere nearby, pumping whatever heat it could back into this cold place. As it felt the warmth slowly pump into him, he somehow felt as if he bumped into something, as if the child was in the coffin with him, closing its eyes and trying its best to sleep.

While the being was still trying to process all of this information, it noticed a glimmer of light. It was dim, like the sky just after sunset seen through a slit in a prison wall, but it was light nonetheless. Despite not having a proper form, the entity struggled towards it as best it could. He still felt like his eye was closed, as if there was a second, heavier eyelid that was still shut in sleep. Trying its hardest, it managed to fully open the eye and see around itself. It was blurry, and there was a lot of red. He could see white plains in the distance, and noticed that he could only use one eye. Was there something wrong with his eye? He was pretty sure he had two, and tried to remember what had happened to the second.

While reaching into his memories, he found two separate images played, one on top of the other. In the forefront, he saw being thrown off of something cold and scaly into something sharp. He recalled a stabbing pain through a head, but it felt wrong. Somehow, these memories were not its own, as if it had been eavesdropping on a private conversation. Peering past this memory, he saw a different scene play out. A small thing, perched on an icy ledge somewhere bright, had thrown something hard and sharp at him, and it had hurt like hell. Despite being hard to make out with the other memory playing over it, this one felt more sure, like a deja vu.

Pulling his conscience back towards the light, he clawed at a figurative eye socket. As he reached deep inside himself, his probing mind grasped an eyeball, or at least the idea of one. Holding on to this concept as tightly as he could, he pulled it from inside himself and thrust it into the spot where he felt an eyeball should probably be. More light streamed into the conceptual realm, clearer than last time. Peering through the newly formed window to the outside, he saw the same image as before, he saw the same image as last time, but now it was clearer and sharper.

Now he had to deal with the pain. Primarily, the sharp pain that seemed to be somewhere far above him, but still managed to cut through the top of his being. Well, that and a heavy throbbing in some extremity. Trying to remember what covered bodies and protected them, the image of tough and shimmering scales flashed in front of his consciousness. Pushing this concept into the pain, he felt it subside as the other being in there stirred and got up. Despite being slow and half-conscious, it felt like this realm was his, as if the first being had snuck into his house and tried on his clothes.

It fell back as the second consciousness stumbled towards the light. Feeling disoriented and a little frightened, the first being tried to get an answer to the question that had been nagging it since it had woken up: who or what was it? Frantically scrambling to pull together all of the memories and thoughts that it could, he saw two images again. Firstly, it saw Einar Mortensson, growing up as a great member of his village, strong and god-fearing. Underneath all of this, it witnessed a very different existence play out. It remembered hunting, flying, its family. It felt all of that become lost as it was dragged into a gaping void. It remembered falling, finding a small, squishy creature help it survive in a world of steel, concrete and stone. It remembered building a home for itself and settling down when it had happened again, being cut off from everything and flung into an icy village. It remembered the small beings attacking it, and burning them in defense.

As it watched all of this play out, it finally realized who it was, and who the other being was. It watched the struggle with the wolf, finding a hole in the mountains away from the wind. It remembered climbing the icy cliff with a spearhead and ice pick, as well as being blinded by the spear. Stepping back from the memories, it watched as Einar's consciousness slowly moved into its rightful place and awoke.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The moonlight fell on a bloody scene as Einar awoke, panting. He was out of breath, as if air had not entered his lungs for hours. He slowly sat up and coughed, spitting out a little blood in the process. What had happened again? Thinking back, he remembered the fight, the fall and the pain. He moved his arm as he shifted his weight and felt a wet pool underneath him. Lifting his hand up towards his face, he could see his red-stained palm though the light of the stars. Was this all his, or did it come from the dragon? He recalled having wound or two, but surely if this was all his blood he would not be alive right now. Speaking of wounds, where were they?

He remembered one on his head, as well as his arm. Pulling off his bracer and untying the makeshift bandages from his forearm, he stared at the freshly healed wound. It was not perfect, as it seemed to be harder and colder than the rest of his skin, as well as darker with an almost greenish tinge to it. As he passed his fingers over the almost scaly flesh, he wondered how this was possible. Bringing his hand up to his temple, he noticed that the pain was gone from there as well, and his bare skin had the same rough feel to it.

Leaning his head back on the cold armor of the dead beast, he gazed at the constellations above him in the clear night sky. It seems the gods want me to stay alive, he thought as he stared up at the eagle and the serpent. As he thought about what this gift of life meant and what task the gods wanted him to complete, he felt like there was someone laughing at him. The hairs on the back of his head pricked up as he got the uncomfortable feeling of being watched, like something was right over his shoulder peering into his thoughts. Turning around quickly and stumbling backwards, he fell once more onto the cold and wet combination of blood and snow. Peering at the spot where he was lying a moment ago, he saw nothing there except for the freezing husk of the slain monster.

Settling himself back down on the ground, he noticed two things. Firstly, he noticed that despite the freezing night air and the frozen ground, he did not feel cold at all. The second thing he noticed was a feeling that something inside of him yet at the same time behind him was becoming clearer and closer to him. He felt slightly afraid of it, and that he could never escape it no matter how far he ran or how hard he fought. Too tired to struggle, he closed his eyes and metaphorically turned to face it. He saw an image flash in front of him, like a giant reptilian eye opening inches from him and gazing into his very being. He felt like every fiber of his being was under scrutiny, scanned by an all-seeing eye. This is a test from the gods and I must not waver, he thought. Somehow, he felt as if his thoughts were seen as well, and that they amused the watcher. He felt it claw and probe through his memories, learning his language and reviewing everything he had ever seen and felt. “What are you?” Einar screamed into the cold night. The watcher seemed taken aback by this question, as if Einar should have known the answer by now.

“Me?”A metaphorical voice asked. “You mean you really don't remember? I'm the creature you've just brutally killed, the one who's former body is freezing over several feet away from you right now.”

“But how could this be? If you really are that monster in some form, why are you separated from your body?

“I didn't want to die, so I attached my soul to your body. Pretty obvious. To be completely honest, I thought you'd be long gone by the time I woke up, a body typically isn't supposed to have more than one soul in it and after those injuries...”

How could something that caused so much death have a soul, Einar wondered to himself as the images of his charred village flashed before his eyes again. Wow, you jump to conclusions faster than you jump off of cliffs, the voice retorted. If you crashed into another dimension without warning and have the first things you see attack you, how would you react? You try limping off somewhere to rest up and tell me how you'd react if some tiny meatsack attacked you and stabbed you in the eye. It's not as easy to be altruistic as you might think.

“Alright, point taken. So how does this work? Are you possessing me, are you a parasite or are you just going to leave soon?”

I don't know how this works, I don't just hop from body to body willynilly. However, considering how you did just viciously murder me, I'd say you owe me. I'm not going anywhere, and since I did just save your life and all I feel like I've earned my place here. “You healed me?” Einar asked. “That's why my skin is all hard and scaly in places?”

Admittedly I didn't do a perfect job, but I'd say it's pretty good for a first try. “Couldn't you make them less monstrous?” Probably, but what's done is done. Even if I could, it's just plain funner to ruin your looks in the process. It's not my fault you got hurt.

Einar remembered his arm smashing into the cliff wall and thought to say something in response, but the dragon had already retorted to this thought. Well I DID do that, but you attacked me first when I just wanted to sleep. Besides, it's not like you had to go after me in the first place.

Einar began to respond with a rousing line about destiny and the will of the gods, but was met with the same mocking as before. The only difference was that he could actually hear the laughter this time. It was a loud laugh with a cackling edge to it. The creature in his mind found this so funny that he was laughing like there was no tomorrow. Einar opened his eyes again and stared at the stars again, visibly annoyed. When the laughing died down, he heard the voice again.

Look pal, I've been in three separate dimensions, two of which I never wanted to see or needed to visit. The only thing I've learned through all of this is that there probably aren't any such thing as gods or destiny, and if deities did exist they would have to be so sadistic and cruel that, if anything, we should do the opposite of what they say. I can see all of your memories, you learning about runes and gods and the Aesir as a child, but the truth is that religion is just like hard drugs: They delude you with false purpose and change they way you see the world until they're gone, and too much of either can get you killed.

As the dragon's consciousness continued to ramble on about futility and how destiny was a scam, Einar grabbed the bloody axe by his side. He got to his feet and tried unsuccessfully to block out the annoying voice that seemed to be coming from inside of his head and a little behind him at the same time. Looking up at she night sky again, he managed to find the north star, stuffed the axe into his belt and began walking east through the ice and snow, leaving the dragon's corpse behind him. The theoretical voice paused its monologue to ask why Einar got up and where he was headed. “As far as I remember,there should be a village to the east of here. One that hasn't been destroyed by some rampaging monstrosity”, he responded testily.

There's no need to take that tone with me, the voice responded. I'm here for good, so you might as well get used to it. On an unrelated note, do you really think you're presentable in this state? Last time I checked, blood-soaked clothing and scales weren't in fashion. “I'll deal with that problem when we get there, let's just get a move on before we starve to death.”

Einar Mortensson continued to stumble through the darkness, he decided to himself that he would find whoever was responsible for creating these portals and bring them to justice. Surprisingly, he did not feel any mocking from the other consciousness, as if this was one of the few things they could agree upon. Filled with this new purpose in his heart, he traversed the icy plains to try and find answers and fulfill his destiny.